Leo sat at the back booth, smoothing the lapels of his first tailored suit. For years, he had watched this world from the outside, peering through the digital glass of social media. Now, he was in the heart of it.

Across from him sat Mama J, a woman whose drag makeup was a masterpiece of architectural precision. She had been the neighborhood’s North Star since the eighties.

"You look stiff, baby," Mama J said, her voice a warm rasp. "Loosen those shoulders. You aren't just wearing a suit; you’re wearing your truth."